On Solid Ground
by Permanent Rose
Summary: As everyone in Storybrooke settles into their happy endings, Henry worries about Emma finding hers. He never expects Regina to be the answer.
1. Chapter I

_A/N: So, I've decided to give Regina a chance to redeem herself without Cora screwing her over. Basically, this is an AUish story following the idea that Hook and Cora never made it to Storybrooke, so Storybrooke went back to being a sleepy little town as everyone settles into their happily ever after. In a bit of a twist, I see Emma taking to the "new Regina" poorly, a bit bitter that Henry continues to warm up to her after all she's done, and struggling to find her place now that she has fulfilled her role as the savior. Events from 2.10 are irrelevant._

_Hope you enjoy :]_

* * *

The afternoon is bleak. From her perch at the kitchen table, Emma can see a layer of misty rain fogging out beyond the window, engulfing the sleepy town. She lets out an irritated sigh, positioning a corner of a napkin that has been packed tightly into a damp ball with her saliva onto the end of her fork, nudging it away from her empty pie plate in attempt to test her homemade catapult. She brings her fist gently up into the air, ready to aim for the trashcan a good few yards away.

"Emma?"

Mary Margaret's voice startles her. She brings her hand back down into her lap, looking grimly up at her mother.

"You're still here?" Mary Margaret's voice is slightly surprised. It's been over two hours since the rest of the family disbanded from lunch.

Emma shrugs, morosely eyeing her torn napkin and silverware catapult.

"I thought you and Henry were going to spend the afternoon together?" Mary Margaret runs her hand through her short hair, as if to subconsciously gage the length. She's been growing it out, and it has reached an awkward length, splaying over her ears and just barely covering her neck.

"Yeah, well…he's with Regina," Emma huffs, wringing her hands together as they rest in her lap.

"I thought today was your afternoon with him," Mary Margaret frowns. "Or are you and Regina trying some sort of new custody schedule?" The slight bitterness in her tone is apparent. All of them are still a bit wary of the Evil Queen, even as she mends her ways.

"Nope, Henry wanted to," Emma shrugs. "Took him to see that new super hero movie, or something." She pretends not to care, staring out at the rain once again.

But she misses it, when Henry chose her first, when Henry loved her best. She hates it, that she now has to vie for his love.

Mary Margaret gives her a reassuring smile. "You're a wonderful mother, Emma." The words hang thickly between them as they penetrate through both women; they both need to hear them.

Emma tries to smile, before pursing her lips, bringing her fist suddenly to the end of the forgotten fork, sending the napkin wad soaring. Mary Margaret jumps, a small gasp escaping her lips. She watches in a mixture of shock and fascination as the tiny ball lands perfectly in the trashcan. "That was," she pauses, closing her gaping mouth, "impressive."

Emma shrugs, though a somewhat proud smile dances at her lips. "Had some practice. Back in one of the group homes I was in, there was this annoying-ass kid, Tyler, who always stole my food. And being like, three hundred pounds lighter than him, I had to come up with more innovative ways to ward him off. Got pretty good at catapulting peas and other small veggies straight into his eye."

Mary Margaret tries to chuckle, but this is hardly the kind of story she wants to hear about her daughter's upbringing – the upbringing she wasn't able to provide. She finds Emma's eyes, regret edging at her lips.

A gentle knock at the door disrupts the two of them, Mary Margaret's words lost as they both startle. Emma huffs out a breath of relief, not sure she can handle another apology without snapping. Her knees crack as she rises from the table, her body stiff from hours of stagnancy. As she opens the door, Henry immediately throttles himself at her, a smile melting onto his face.

She clings to him, looking up to catch Regina's eye as she hangs back in the doorway. She clutches him tightly, silently claiming what is hers. Emma licks her lips, watching as Regina purses her own. "Did you guys have fun?"

Henry wriggles out of her grasp, grinning up at her. "It was so awesome. Thor is totally my favorite. I want to see it again – maybe you can come next time?" he asks hopefully.

"I'd like that, kiddo," Emma smiles. She runs a hand through his short brown hair, her heart clenching slightly. "Why don't you go see what Mary Margaret is making for dinner?"

He nods before hurrying off, leaving the two women with the layer of suffocating tension draped between them.

"Do you have something you'd like to tell me, Ms. Swan?" Regina raises an eyebrow, delicately skimming her tongue along her ruby lips.

"Not a word," Emma hisses through gritted teeth. "Though I presume you do, seeing as you have yet to leave."

"I'm merely ensuring the safe delivery of my son," she speaks slowly, "but seeing as my presence is no longer wanted, I'll take that as my cue to leave." She curtly nods, her eyes flashing tauntingly.

Emma slams the door with such force that the pleasant chatter from the kitchen stops abruptly. Henry and Mary Margaret look up from the strips of chicken sizzling on the stovetop, their expressions worried.

"Sorry," Emma mutters dutifully. She plops down on the couch with a huff, trying in vain to subdue her anger.

XXX

"Should we wake her?" Henry whispers as he steps toward the couch, watching as Emma's chest rises and falls gently, her face creased in agitation despite her slumber.

Mary Margaret bites her lip, the fajitas steaming pleasantly on the table behind her. She glances back toward Emma. "No. We'll let her sleep."

Henry looks just as concerned as his grandmother, letting out a heavy sigh. "Do you think she's happy?"

Two pairs of eyes fall on her, a feeling of regret bubbling in Mary Margaret's chest as she struggles to answer. She wishes it were easier than this. "She's just trying to find her place." She avoids what she doesn't wish to admit.

"But she has a place. She has a family. She belongs here," Henry insists, standing firmly by the couch, his bottom lip quivering slightly.

"I know she does. We just have to keep reminding her that," Mary Margaret puts on a brave face, rubbing Henry's back gently as she guides him toward the table, waiting for David to join them.

XXX

The bell clangs as Emma enters Granny's diner the following morning before work, the chatter lively as she skulks back to the corner, a permanent grimace of bitterness etched on her face. The chair across from her slides across the linoleum floor with a creak, and she doesn't have to look up to see who has joined her, the sharp smell of apple and cinnamon stinging her nose.

"What do you want?" Emma huffs, her eyes darting up to meet Regina's dark ones.

"I was merely offering you some company, seeing as you are here alone," Regina mutters, her tone elusive.

"Oh, cut the crap. I can see right through you, even if the rest of this damn town can't – even though you continue to manipulate your own _son._" Emma spits at her, gripping the handle of her empty coffee cup with such force that she's frightened she might shatter it.

"Excuse me?" Regina narrows her eyes. "I can assure you that I treat _my _son with the utmost sincerity. _My _son, whom I have legally adopted. _My _son, whom I am stable enough to support."

The words sting more than they should. Emma clenches her teeth, baring her icy stare into Regina's eyes.

"Miss Swan, I know my past hardly provides me much credibility, but I am trying for Henry's sake, and being civil toward you is one of his standards, so it would be nice if you'd make that task somewhat bearable," she clamps her teeth together.

"Yeah, well, when you can prove you'll be genuine for the long haul, then maybe I'll cut you some slack. Until then, I can be as bitter as I damn well please," Emma growls at her.

"Suit yourself, but you'll soon see that you're the one causing Henry grief for a change," Regina smiles ever so slightly.

"You took my place," Emma grits her teeth. "_I _was the one who was there for him when you weren't. _I _was the one who loved him."

"Don't you _ever _insinuate that I don't love Henry, Miss Swan. Claim all you want about me, but _never _underestimate the love a mother has for her child," Regina's eyes flash with rage and a hint of pain. "_You _of all people should understand that."

Their heated words go unnoticed as the diner continues to buzz around them. Emma lets a stream of breath out through her teeth, relinquishing a small piece of her grudge. "I just don't see this working – I know we're trying this whole shared custody of Henry thing, but do you honestly see us reaching a place where it's not hurting one of us?"

"You're the one being the skeptic, Miss Swan," Regina reminds her. "And if you continue to hold this attitude, perhaps your time here in Storybrooke should come to end," Regina rises, forcing a pleasant smile in Emma's direction. Her heels click gently against the floor as she leaves the eatery.

But even after she's gone, the sickly sweet smell of apples hangs thickly around Emma.

* * *

_A/N: A bit unexpected after how we saw Emma treat Regina last night, but I'm intrigued by the potential angsty and twisty side of Emma that could be brought about by these events. Instead of her falling happily into the role of Charming and Snow's daughter, I can see her resisting it, feeling as though she's lost her chance and doesn't know how to embrace it. And likewise, I could see Henry falling back comfortably into a life with Regina, especially now that she's so intent on being the best mother she can for him, and for Emma, this is especially difficult for her to embrace because not only does she feel like she doesn't have a place as Charming and Snow's daughter, but now she's losing her place as Henry's mother. So a bitter hatred starts forming in her that fuels events in this story, just to give you a better glimpse at my reasoning because I've decided to handle this differently than the show. _

_That being said, I would appreciate your feedback very much :]_


	2. Chapter II

Emma sits on the couch, picking at a lose string poking out from the toe of her sock. She listens to David and Mary Margaret's hushed voices in the kitchen, her stomach a little uneasy. She coughs, reminding them of her presence.

Their voices pause, and she listens to their footsteps approach her. She doesn't look up, however, instead keeping her attention on her socks, watching how the brown and grey threads weave together, creating a tight knit.

"You have something to tell me?" she dares a glance up. Mary Margaret's face is visibly anxious, though David's calm expression counteracts hers, attempting to put both women at ease.

"Yes, um, darling," Mary Margaret begins, and Emma cringes just a little, Mary Margaret's effort to fall into the role of her mother always just a little unsettling. "We just want to tell you now, ourselves, before you might hear it from someone else….we thought it would only be fair to you, to try to break the news as—"

Her rambling is unbearable, and she lets out a sigh of relief as David interrupts her. "We're having a baby, Emma." David's voice is clear and collected, with only a tiny hint of pride as he wraps his arms around Mary Margaret's slumped shoulder, giving her cardigan-clad arm a gentle squeeze.

"Oh."

It's a shitty reaction, Emma realizes immediately, but the simple phrase feels like a punch in the gut. She wishes it didn't. She tells herself it doesn't matter, that it doesn't change a thing. But as she watches her parents – her mother's eyes brimmed with tears instead of the customary joy, her father's strong embrace of support, she feels her stomach churn with an ugly knot. She's an intruder in this small pocket of happiness they have finally been able to recreate for themselves. She knows she's loved, but it's out of place, so long overdue that she doesn't know how to embrace it. She looks down to Mary Margaret's belly, imagining the tiny infant inside her womb, already having a place. Emma doesn't belong in this snapshot.

She doesn't belong anywhere at all.

She filled her role as the savior, but it was a fleeting role, one that has been deemed useless. At twenty-nine years old, she's a useless asset. She's done what she was born to do, fulfilled her greatest accomplishment, leaving her with nothing.

"That's great," she finally squeaks out, pasting a fake smile on her face, an expression she's mastered. "I'm really happy for you guys."

It works, because she notices Mary Margaret's face visibly relax, her lips quivering with relief. David presses a small kiss to her temple, his lips grinning against her skin.

She waits, in suffocating silence, until they are both sleeping soundly before she leaves.

XXX

She doesn't smoke.

Not really, but it's a habit she picked up from Neal that she caves to from time to time. It calms her, gives her something to do with her hands, the repetitive motion of taking drag after drag offering her a dull, soothing sensation.

The nicotine laces lazily through her body as she brings the joint up to her lips, exhaling the warm cloud of smoke into the chilly night air. She focuses on each motion, the taste of the cigarette on her lips, the chilly prickling of the air biting at her ears. If she thinks about all these things, she doesn't have time to let any other thoughts wander into her mind. She gazes out at the ruins of Henry's castle, her ass growing numb as she keeps it planted against the hood of her car, her boots propped up against the front bumper.

She doesn't cry.

But she wants to.

XXX

"Henry told me."

"'Course he did," Emma spits, slamming her coffee mug against the table. "Now why don't you just get the fuck out of here and let me be. Because I'm this close," she pinches her thumb and pointer finger together, "to upping myself and leaving this town in the dust. And I don't need to see you around to gloat in your victory."

"He's worried about you."

Emma jerks her head up, Regina's response rendering her speechless. "And you're here to pretend you care?"

"If it concerns Henry, then I make it my business to care," Regina speaks carefully, trying to mask the irritation seeping into her voice.

"Well, fuck off," Emma hisses back, leaning back into her chair, jamming the heel of her shoe into the floor. "I'm fine. It's just another damn kid. It's not like it's gonna change anything. It's not like I'm ever filled that role anyway." Her voice cracks over the last word.

Regina swallows, though she doesn't say anything for a moment. "My apologies," she finally mutters.

"I don't need your sympathy," Emma glowers back at her, her heart clenching too tightly to gage if Regina's words are sincere or not. Regardless, they sting her, threatening to break through the ugly anger that's been welling in her. "I don't need it, not from anyone. I was fine before I got here, and I'll sure as hell be fine now."

"Hatred, Miss Swan," Regina reminds her, pulling her lips into a thin, crimson line, "is how I ended up the way I did. Just something for you to mull over."

* * *

_A/N: Thanks so much for all the positive feedback! I know Emma is getting kind of dark and twisty, but as some of you stated, this role reversal is kind of driving her to resort to acting the way Regina did as she deals with all this unresolved hurt - an idea I find most intriguing. Please continue to let me know what you think :)_


	3. Chapter III

_A/N: Thanks so much for all the positive feedback! I'm really glad to see you're enjoying this :] As a warning, I apologize if any of these chapters seem jumpy. It was never my intention to make this a drawn out fic, so it's more like a series of snapshots instead of being super plot driven. Just wanted to clarify._

_Also, I'm a bit confused about the setup of Mary Margaret's apartment. I'm just gonna say its a two-bedroom place for the sake of this story. Thanks again for reading :]_

* * *

There is a crib assembled in the living room.

There is a crib assembled in the living room, because Emma is currently occupying the only spare room in the apartment.

She glares at it, almost menacingly, as she spoons her cereal into her mouth.

"Cereal for dinner?" Henry's voice startles her as he enters the apartment, kicking off his tennis shoes as he joins Emma at the table, his hair a bit mussed from the wind. Mary Margaret and David are out to dinner and a show tonight, and Emma finds she's a bit glad for the unexpected company.

"Hi to you, too, kid," she mutters, taking another bite. It's tasteless against the bile that's settled in her mouth. "You want a bowl?"

"No, thanks. My mom made a roast for dinner," he informs her, innocently, though the words only make Emma's stomach churn all the more, reminding her of her uselessness.

"Yeah, 'course she did," Emma huffs. She brings the bowl to her lips, draining the excess milk, staring at the crib once again. "Hey, wanna help me with something?" she offers as soon as she lowers the bowl from her lips.

"Sure!" Henry's face lights up, despite knowing nothing of the task. "What do you need me to do?"

Her stomach eases, reminded that his adoration still remains.

XXX

"So…where are you going to sleep?" Henry cocks his head, looking at the mattress propped up against the wall of the spare bedroom, the bed frame disassembled in the corner. In the center of the room, Emma repositions the crib.

"Granny's maybe," she shrugs. "Til I can find my own place, you know? It's about time I did that," she sighs, wiping her sweaty palms on her jeans.

Henry frowns. "You can stay with me and my mom if you want to…we have lots of spare rooms," he immediately offers, stepping closer to Emma, titling his chin to smile up at her.

"Kid, I don't really think that's the best idea," she bites in a lip. "But thanks for the offer."

"You know, my mom's not so bad…at least not as bad as she used to be," Henry speaks softly, almost looking sheepish as he says the words.

"Yeah, I know." And she does know. She knows well that Regina is on the path of redemption, though this truth leaves a bitter knot gnawing at Emma's stomach. Regina is changing, but Emma can't seem to embrace it like everyone else.

She bites back a further remark, placing her hand on this small of his back as she leads him from the room. "It's getting late. Let me give you a ride home."

He nods, knowing not to push the topic any further. Once Henry is delivered back to the mayor's manor, she drives to the station, unable to bear the thought of returning home.

XXX

She awakes to the sound of her phone buzzing loudly, a hazy beam of light bleeding through the small window. Stiffly, she removes her legs from her desk, her back aching from the uncomfortable position she assumed for the night. She had contemplated taking refuge on the mattress in the single jail cell, but she had held on to the small amount of pride she still harbored.

"What?" she answers her phone, not even bothering to check the caller ID. She rubs her temples in attempt to nurse her splitting headache.

"Emma? Where the hell have you been?" Mary Margaret's voice is familiar, though the use of the minor profanity is not. "We've been worried sick."

"Went into the station late last night to work on some stuff. Fell asleep here by mistake," she lies, sinking back into the worn leather chair.

Mary Margaret sighs, waiting a moment before she answers. "Emma, we saw what you did to your room. You know we're not kicking you out, right?" It hurts to listen to the sincerity in her voice.

"Yeah, I know," Emma lets out a weary breath. "But I've been meaning to get a place of my own anyway, and now's turning out to be an ideal time."

Mary Margaret sighs as well. She can picture her face, her brow knotted in concern. It makes Emma's stomach hurt. She hates what she's doing to them. "At least stay here until you find a place. There's no use having an empty room, especially before the baby is born."

Emma nods against the phone, saying the words Mary Margaret wants to hear, even though she knows she is lying through her teeth.

XXX

She'd stay at Granny's, but she doesn't have the money. And she doesn't have the humility to take Granny's sympathy, certain that the kindly woman would offer her a room free of charge.

She hates herself, as she walks up the familiar walkway with her duffle bag slung over her shoulder. It's her only option, really. She could lie to Mary Margaret and keep living in her office, but it's a small town, and not much of anything seems to stay hidden around here. Mary Margaret and David's home (not hers, never hers) suffocates her every moment she spends there, the wooden crib taunting her, Mary Margaret's belly swelling with life, reminding her that she will soon be replaced.

If Regina is really the woman she claims she has become, now will be the time she proves it.

She reaches for the doorbell, listening to it shatter against the silence.

XXX

"We have three spare rooms upstairs," Regina reminds her, as Emma snuggles up into the throw pillow of the deep leather couch.

"I'm fine here," she mutters, her breath coming out in a small huff.

"Well, if you insist. I'm headed to bed," Regina shrugs, flicking off the parlor lamp, the darkness engulfing Emma as she listens to the click of Regina's shoes fade.

Once the noise is no longer audible, she lets of a breath, pressing her nose into the smooth surface of the pillow, inhaling the rich scent. Regina has been agreeable, but not overly welcoming, which is more than Emma would have wagered. Perhaps her kindness does extend beyond her promise to Henry; perhaps her heart is blossoming from the clenched knot she used to harbor in her chest.

She closes her eyes, listening to the click of the grandfather clock keeping time in the silence. She lets her heart match it's beat, on the brink of slumber, when a hushed noise rouses her. She sits up, becoming attentive, frowning when she recognizes it as crying.

Henry.

She flies form the couch, making a beeline for the steps, determined to beat Regina there, intent on being his knight in shining armor. But as she ascends the steps, her heart sinks with a thud.

The gentle sound of content breathing is the only noise seeping from behind Henry's cracked door.

The sharp, gasping tears come from Regina's.


	4. Chapter IV

Emma slinks back down to the couch, covering her head with the throw pillow, listening to the thudding of her heart until she's sure she'll only be greeted with silence. It's eons of hushed, suffocating agony before she finally pulls away, the eerie creaks and shudders of the house pulsing around her.

She closes her eyes, begging sleep to claim her as she refuses to acknowledge the pang in her heart.

XXX

"Morning," Emma mutters as she stumbles into the kitchen the next morning, the bright sheets of sunlight slicing across the stark white room. She always feels out of place here, like just her presence makes the immaculate home dirty. She swallows, reminding herself that Regina deserves no better than she does. But years and years of having a low socioeconomic status have imprinted her more strongly than she'd like to admit.

"Good morning to you as well, Ms. Swan," Regina answers, clad in a slim fitting black dress and matching pumps that contrast the white glow of her skin. Her lips are a perfect shade of ruby, and not a hair falls out of place.

She's pretty – more than pretty, perhaps, and this is not the first time Emma has noticed. It makes her hate her own straw colored hair, wishing her skin weren't so pasty, her appearance so gruff. She thinks of her mother, as lovely and delicate as the woman who stands before her, wondering why she couldn't have been blessed with such desirable traits.

She leans up against the edge of the counter, the elbow of her bleak brown leather coat brushing up against the marble surface. "You got any coffee?" she asks, clearing her throat.

"I just put on a pot," Regina motions toward the far side of the kitchen. "I hope you don't mind instant – I'm in a bit of a rush this morning."

Emma scoffs. "As long as it's not dirt, I'll drink it."

A small, half smile edges across Regina's lips for a brief moment. "So, did you sleep well?"

Emma coughs for a moment, a rush of heat coursing to her face as the events from last night come back to her. "Out like a rock. You?"

Regina pauses for a moment, and suddenly Emma wishes she wouldn't have said anything at all. "Quite well."

The tension is suddenly heavy, and Emma wonders if Regina feels it as well. Henry strolls into the kitchen just a minute later, a much needed breath of relief.

"Hey, kid," Emma greets, ruffling his hair as he comes up to hug her. "Want me to drive you to school today?"

Henry's face lights up, as he grabs a muffin from the tin behind Emma. "Can I, Mom?" he turns to gain Regina's approval.

Her lips purse, and Emma is ready (and perhaps too eager) to put up a fight, but she merely nods. "Have a nice day, Henry. I love you."

He crosses the kitchen, the warmth of his body leaving Emma's side as he goes to embrace Regina. She tenderly kisses his head, a genuine smile melting onto her face.

She loves him. Emma's always known this, but now, it hits her suddenly like a punch in the gut. It leaves her feeling powerless, hopeless, as if she's already lost.

But when she takes a moment to think about, she has to wonder exactly what she's fighting for anymore.

XXX

"Charming! It's Emma – put it away!" Mary Margaret's hushed voice greets Emma as she lets herself into the apartment.

She narrows her eyes as she enters the kitchen, the warm smell of bubbling spaghetti sauce assaulting her nose. David tucks a tiny square of paper beneath a stack of ungraded papers Mary Margaret has left on the countertop. "What're you hiding?" she speaks warily.

"It's nothing, Emma," Mary Margaret nervously rubs her swollen belly. "I'm glad you could make it. Will Henry be here soon?"

"Yeah, he's just staying late for play practice at school. Regina said she'd get him," Emma informs her, leaning in dutifully for a hug. She relaxes against Mary Margaret's touch, trying her best to relish all she missed out on as a child.

She steps over toward David next, giving him an awkward wave. She doesn't quite feel comfortable hugging him yet. "So, I know you won't lie to me, Pops," she feebly jokes with David, watching him noticeably wince. "I don't like being out of the loop." She forces a laugh.

David glances over to Mary Margaret, who is biting her lip. He lets out a sigh. "Why don't we just show her, Snow?"

"James…" Mary Margaret warns, the rare use of his full name startling the two of them. But she lets out a heavy sigh. "Okay, fine. It doesn't really matter anyway, I suppose."

She reaches behind the stack of paper, producing the small square of paper. She flips it, producing a blurry black and white image.

An ultrasound.

Emma stares at it for a moment, processing just how careful they're being with her, just how evident she has made it that she no longer feels welcome here. She swallows heavily. "You don't have to keep hiding stuff like this from me," she speaks softly. "I know…I know that I'm not the best at handling all this, and I haven't really fallen into the role of, you know, your daughter like you would have liked…but I don't want you to keep feeling bad about this. Really. I'm happy for you. And I want you to be happy for your kid – my...little brother or sister," she adds, the words sounding strange, but she watches as Mary Margaret involuntarily smiles.

"Brother," Mary Margaret clarifies. "We're having a boy."

"Congrats," Emma speaks softly, reaching into embrace her again. She smiles at David over Mary Margaret's shoulder.

There's a light knock on the door a moment later, and Henry bounds in, running over to eagerly greet his grandparents. "I'm so excited for spaghetti night!"

Emma steps away, nodding toward Regina who has accompanied him to the door. Regina offers her a tiny smile. She doesn't know why, but suddenly Emma doesn't feel quite so alone.


	5. Chapter V

The mayor's home is ominously silent as Emma enters, kicking off her shoes, leaving them at her usual place that door. She shuffles into the kitchen, her sock-clad feet soft against the white tiled floor. She rummages through the cabinet, trying to find something fattening and carbo-loaded she can gorge on after her long day, but she's greeted only with minimal organic options.

"Henry!" she calls, her voice echoing throughout the spacious home, but she's only greeted with silence. She frowns, tearing an almond granola bar wrapper open with her teeth, leaving a pile of crumbs across the stark counter as she takes a crunchy bite.

She checks the time on the microwave clock, biting down on her lower lip. It's nearly six. Henry should have been home long ago, and she runs through his schedule in her mind, trying to remember a forgotten practice or a briefly mentioned play date. He's good about letting her know his whereabouts, and until now, Emma has prided herself in being an aware and responsible mother.

Even Regina's absence baffles her. Unless she stayed late at the office, she should have been home nearly an hour ago.

Emma forces herself to push her worry away, curling up on the couch, idly picking up a housekeeping magazine. A few minutes later, she's startled by the front door, swinging on its hinges as the welcome sound of hushed voices and footsteps draw closer.

Emma rises form the couch, tossing the magazine away without a thought. "Where were yo—" She cuts herself off as her eyes fall on Henry, his lip swollen and a sizable bandage on his forehead. "What the hell happened?"

She glares harshly at Regina, quick to blame her, despite how civil and comfortable they have become lately.

"It's fine, Emma," Henry speaks quickly, before Regina edges a word in. "Mom took me out riding today, and I fell. It's nothing, though. I didn't even end up needing stitches."

"You did _what?_" Emma spits at Regina. She steps toward her injured son, clamping a hand protectively over his shoulder.

"I took him horseback riding," Regina repeats Henry's words, speaking slowly through her pursed lips. "David had begun to teach him when you and Mary Margaret were gone, so I decided to take some time today to further instruct him."

"And look what happened! Are you sure he's okay? Does he have a concussion? What else hurts, Henry?" She darts her eyes down to Henry, her voice gruff and panicked.

"Emma, I'm fine," he assures her. "It was just a little fall. And at the hospit—"

"You took him to this hospital?!" Emma exasperates. "And you didn't think to tell me?"

"Miss Swan, it all happened so quickly, and it ended up being quite mino –"

"How the hell could you take him to the hospital and not even think to call me?" Emma interrupts her, her voice full of anger and betrayal. "I thought we were making progress here, Regina. But apparently I was wrong."

Before Regina can even defend herself, Emma storms off, slamming the back door behind her.

XXX

"Good wine you got here, Madame Mayor," Emma slurs, taking another swig from the open bottle as she lounges across the couch. Her tank hangs off her shoulder, and one of her socks is missing.

Regina, of course, looks as though she just walked out of a Revlon add. She had left for a business dinner before Emma had returned, leaving Emma and Henry alone for the evening. In her anger, she had popped open the most expensive bottle of wine she could find, only intending to get a pleasant buzz in order to sedate her anger, but the pitiful state of her life had gotten the best of her, and three glasses in, she had decided it was more convenient just to drain the bottle.

Regina looks at her with disdain, tossing her trench coat against the arm of the leather chair. "And what if I had been saving that bottle for another occasion, Ms. Swan?"

Emma spits her mouthful back into the top of the bottle, her aim poor as most of it dribbles down her chin. "Here, want it back?"

"Your behavior is deplorable," Regina lets a disgusted cough. She struts across the parlor, closing the gap between her and the couch. Taking the bottle firmly in her grasp, she jerks it from Emma's sweaty palm. "I've had quite enough of it today. And _you've _had more than enough."

Emma's head spins as she heaves her body from the couch, groping for the bottle that Regina holds just out of her reach. "Fuck you," she whines, staggering to her feet.

Regina steps away, ready to replace the lid, but she's stunned to silence as Emma's hands grab her hips roughly, pushing her up against the nearby wall. "Give it back."

"Miss Swan!" Regina gasps, her breath light and feathery, her heart erratic as Emma's body presses up against her.

"Fuck, please, just gimme it," Emma whines, her breath ricocheting off the heat of Regina's face. "You've taken everything else from me. The least you can do is let me have my damn wine."

"_My _wine," Regina reminds her, her voice firmer now. "And please, stop it with your endless self-pity. All you do is sit here, wallowing in your pathetic sorrows, like you're the only one who's ever known what it feels like to hurt. You're far from the first person to feel this way, I can assure you Miss Swan."

Emma glares for a moment, before softening slightly, her words suddenly spilling from her. "I'm useless, though," Emma chokes out, swallowing heavily to stop the tears. "How do you think that makes me feel? All I've ever been is a goddamn tool in this whole big scheme. I never got the chance to be loved, to be someone's child, to be someone's mother. All I ever was a fucking pawn, played by Mr. Gold from the very beginning," Emma's voice catches as she finishes, clamping her mouth shut, biting her tongue. She can't cry. She won't cry.

"You honestly think you're the only one he played? Look at me – I know everyone thinks this was my curse, my plan, my destruction, but I was just as much of a tool as you were. _He_ created the curse; _he_ instigated me to enact it. _He_ was there when I was born, Emma. _He_ was the one who chose my name. _He_ was the one who burdened me with the title of queen, long before I knew I was destined to wear it. So don't you dare talk to me like I don't understand," Regina spits out with vengeance, years and years of pent up pain erupting with sudden fervor.

And it is then, in that moment, that Emma finally realizes that she and Regina really aren't that different. Her heart trembles, she bites her lip, loosening her hold on Regina's hips.

And then she kisses her.

* * *

_A/N: Thanks to **youte **for the idea of having Regina teach Henry how to ride for this chapter. Also, it's kind of my head canon that Rumplestiltskin was presence for Regina's birth, seeing as it's rumored Cora is the miller's daughter from the original story, just to clarify. Thanks so much for your feedback :]_


	6. Chapter VI

The kiss is wet and sloppy, though it is filled with the lovely spark of unexpectedness. Regina squirms, but only for a small moment, before lets out a sigh, a small whimper, reaching to tangle her fingers tightly in Emma's thick hair.

A moan escapes Emma's mouth, her parted lips giving Regina's tongue the chance to enter. Emma's hands resume their grip on Regina's hips, her thumbs rubbing circles against the protruding nub of the bone. All Emma can hear is her heart slamming against her chest, mingled with the elevated rate of Regina's, their bodies molding together, quivering with an electrical current. Emma lets her thigh slide between the hem of Regina's skirt, gently nudging her knee upward. Regina lets out a low groan, her hands loosening their grip in Emma's hair, falling limp against the wall as her body succumbs to Emma's touch.

Emma kisses her thoroughly, delighting in each moan, each breath, the cadence of their bodies moving together. She pauses, only for a breath, keeping her cheek pressed up against Regina's mouth. They breathe simultaneously, their bodies rising and falling at the same tempo. The wine bottle falls from Regina's trembling fingers, thudding as it hits the floor, the soft rush of liquid audible as it seeps into the carpet.

Emma has her mouth over Regina's once again before she can say a word.

A few moments pass before Regina guides them, a tangled mess of limbs, clumsily for the staircase, pausing several times as they brush up against the wall, the railing, becoming lost in the intensity of their touch, only to remember their final goal.

There is a pregnant pause, a shared silence, as they stumble past Henry's door, cracked open just a sliver. Regina reaches for the knob of her own room, giving Emma a gentle shove into the interior before clicking the door shut gently. For a moment, the only sound is the heavy rush of their breath, as they wait in bated anticipation.

Regina closes the distance, her body slamming into Emma's, less careful now. Emma lets out a thick moan, a wet heat pulsing between her legs. "Bed," she manages to push between her lips, certain her legs are going to crumble at any moment.

She doesn't have to say the words twice. Regina shoves her against the mattress, Emma's head flying back against the pillows. Regina takes dominion now, nipping down her neck, dancing her fingers down her abdomen until she reaches her thighs. Emma's breath hitches, gripping onto the comforter as she tries to keep her already dizzy head from spinning out of control. Regina reaches for the button of her jeans, deftly undoing it, before bunching Emma's jeans down below her knees. It's all one fluid movement, an unbroken stream of passion, but as she reaches to slide her panties away, she suddenly pauses, her eyes searching until they find Emma's.

Emma nods, granting her permission, clamping her eyes shut her as body throbs with need. Regina's mouth meets her, her sliding in like a puzzle piece.

For the first time in a long while, something finally fits.

XXX

She wakes up with her arm draped over Regina's slender hip, the skin soft and smooth against her callused fingers. Even without a trace of alcohol coursing through her, her body aches with so much need, so much desire, to pull away like she knows she should. She lets her eyes close, focusing on the muted hush of Regina breathing.

She's about to drift off once again when Regina stirs, turning to face her. She expects a look of horror, perhaps even a brutal shove, but she is only greeted by pleasant bewilderment that quickly morphs into a lazy smile. Regina covers Emma's parted lips with her own, a soft groan vibrating off her lips.

Regina needs her as much as she needs her. The realization is frightening, yet comforting, as hazy bits of their conversation from the night before seep back into her memory. The desperate passion from earlier is now replaced with gentle desire, and with their walls finally lowered, neither of them fight it.

XXX

Regina lets out a heavy sigh as she scrubs the wine stain off the carpet the next morning, watching the large splotch of deep purple fade to a pink she knows she'll never fully remove.

"What happened?" Henry asks, startling her as he stumbles down the stairs in his pajamas.

"Just a small spill," she answers, watching the carpet foam as she continues to rub.

"Where's Emma?" Henry asks, watching her for a moment.

"I'm not sure," she answers, biting her lip, her mind slipping back to the early hours of the morning, now seeming so far off, so distant. She feels cold and alone, longing more than she should for Emma's warmth. In the hushed hour of the dawn, she had felt so hopeful. Now, in the blinding light of day, she feels foolish.

She offers Henry a small smile. "Why don't you head into the kitchen? I'll be there in a minute to make breakfast."

Henry nods, oblivious to her distress, disappearing a moment later.

She bites her lip, trying not to cry as she stares at her ruined carpet, wondering why she thought letting herself feel something again could ever turn out any different.

* * *

_A/N: Sorry, a bit on the shorter side this time. Thanks so much for all your feedback - each review means so much! :)_


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